


The Best Present is Hope

by Razra_Eizel (Eleana_Lee)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 09:32:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2616977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eleana_Lee/pseuds/Razra_Eizel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because of a Ministry-issued rule, Draco spends Christmas with Harry. He finds out it’s the best Christmas he’s had in years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Present is Hope

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rabbit_says](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabbit_says/gifts).



> This was a pleasure to write. I think I have a secret kink for romantic Harry. I tried to incorporate several prompts in this, so hope you enjoy =)

After the end of the Second Wizarding War, the minors and those who were on Voldemort’s side but not of their own free will were paired up with someone from either the Dumbledore’s Army or the Order of Phoenix, and three days out of every month they would live like a Muggle. The Ministry said it was for them to learn how Muggles lived so they could gain better understanding and appreciation for them.

Draco thought it was a load of bull. What appreciation and understanding could you get from getting lost trying to get around London via the tube and not knowing how to return home, or from having to restrain yourself from throwing those Muggle electronics at the wall in a fit of frustration?

He didn’t care that Muggles apparently lived better and more conveniently with their aid. Those things were the devil’s incarnates.

“Aren’t you overreacting? I told you to start from old phones and not the newer smartphones straight away, but you just had to get the latest and most expensive stuffs, don’t you?”

“Shut up, Potter.”

When December rolled by, the three days chosen for them to spend as Muggles were Christmas Even, Christmas, and the day after. Some complained because it meant they couldn’t spend Christmas with their families, but Draco couldn’t care less either way. Since his father was put into Azkaban and his mother moved to France, he lived by himself at Spinner’s End. Snape had predicted the Ministry seizing the Malfoy Manor, and had willed his home to his godson.

“So, since it’s only going to be the two of us, I guess we should just have a small celebration,” Harry commented. “But we’ll go through everything most Muggles do; we’ll decorate a tree, bake some cookies and puddings, make the dinner, and buy presents. That should be it.”

After the last time Draco was let loose by himself in London resulted in him being stranded in Essex (he still wasn’t sure how), Harry decided never to let him go anywhere by himself. They went to the nearest shopping mall together, and he’d patiently wait outside the store while Draco went in to browse for a present for Harry.

“You’re not looking?” Draco asked as he frowned.

“I already got your present,” Harry said simply, and no matter how much Draco prodded, he wouldn’t say anything more on the topic.

Draco finally came out looking satisfied with a gift-wrapped thing from a gift store. The shape was uneven and Harry suspected a clothing item, but he wisely kept quiet. The last time Draco had tried giving him a surprise (he fixed his old dragon hide boots and charmed them to be waterproof and more durable for Harry because he had complained of getting mud in his shoes as he was chasing after a criminal once, and he thought it was sweet, no matter how much Draco insisted that it was his mother who made him do it, constantly badgering him through her letters to do something nice for Harry for once) and Harry found out about it before he was supposed to, Draco had thrown an epic tantrum that lasted more than three days.

He wasn’t going to willingly go through that again, thank you very much.

They returned home afterwards, and Draco was tasked with decorating the tree while Harry made dinner. He didn’t trust Draco in the kitchen, and decided that the worst thing that could happen while decorating the tree was getting tangled in the fairy lights.

Dinner was quiet but comfortable, as opposed to the tense ones they had together when they had first been paired up. After a year, Draco believed that he could have been paired up with someone worse, and after three years, although he would never admit it, even on pain of death, he began to think of Harry as a friend.

They watched several classic Christmas movies after dinner, and agreed to open the gifts after Christmas dinner instead of in the morning before they went to sleep. Harry also agreed to let Draco in the kitchen under his supervision, but only assigned him the task of cutting and decorating the cookies.

“I’ll have you know I’m a fast learner,” Draco complained. “I’m sure I won’t burn down the kitchen again.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Maybe when we’re at your place instead of mine, I’ll let you destroy it as you see fit.”

“Rude, Potter. I do not destroy anything.”

“Yes, merely caused the kitchen to be out of commission for the foreseeable future.”

Draco gave him the evil eye and went to one of the guest rooms. Just like him, Harry had stayed in his godfather’s old home after the war. They alternated staying at Spinner’s End and Grimmauld’s Place when they had to stay together, and this time it just happened to be in Grimmauld’s Place.

The house and the portraits liked him enough because of his Black blood, so Harry usually let him choose whichever guest room he wanted to stay in.

The next morning, Harry was already in the kitchen making pancakes when Draco stumbled inside, nearly hitting the doorsill. He blearily looked around, and let out a small happy noise when he saw the coffee pot already filled.

“Good morning to you too, o civilised and classy Malfoy.”

Draco grunted and flipped him the bird, before grabbing a mug and pouring coffee into it, not stopping until it reached the rim.

Draco began his descent into not being a morning person after he graduated Hogwarts and there was no more reason for him to wake up early for fear most of the breakfast would be gone when he got there. The only Muggle invention that he worshipped was coffee, and Harry made sure to tease him about it every chance that he got.

“Awake enough to be a human being?” Harry asked as he placed a stack of pancakes on a plate and presented it to Draco.

“Shut up,” Draco groused as he reached for the maple syrup and practically drowned his pancakes in them. He picked up his cutlery, and mumbled, “Thank you for the food,” as softly as he could.

But of course, Potter had to hear.

Harry grinned at him. “You’re welcome,” he chirped as he sat down across from him with his own stack of pancakes. “Not that I’m complaining, but you don’t exactly thank me often.”

Draco sniffed. “I suppose I could have been treated worse,” he said, “and my mother taught me to thank those who do you a favour.”

“I’ve always liked her,” Harry commented, “better than I like your father, anyway.”

Draco rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

As promised, Harry didn’t kick Draco out after breakfast. They made the desserts first, cookies and tarts, before they moved onto dinner, some roast and puddings. They took a break after desserts to have lunch, and while waiting for the roast in the oven, they finished decorating the tree, adding a couple more ornaments and lighting up the fairy lights.

Dinner was a quiet affair, much like Christmas Eve dinner. They brought the cookies and tarts to the Harry’s room, where he had set the TV (he didn’t do it in any other place, for fear the portraits would start screaming bloody murder at him for ‘defiling’ their house with Muggle stuffs. His ears wouldn’t stop ringing for days the first time they did that when he brought all the Muggle appliances into the kitchen), so they could do another marathon of Christmas movies, and they also brought their presents so they could open them.

Harry opened his gift first. It turned out to be a red and green sweater with a close up face of Rudolph on the front. It was soft, though, and he put it on without complaint when he saw the gleeful glint in Draco’s eyes.

The glint disappeared once he had it on as Draco frowned instead.

“What is it?” Harry asked curiously, looking down at himself to check that he had put it on right.

“You don’t look silly,” Draco said, as if it was the greatest injustice to humanity to date. “It’s not fair.”

Harry chuckled and shook his head disbelievingly. “Well, all unfairness aside, here’s your present.”

Draco tore open the wrapping paper and took a while to appreciate the workmanship of the wooden chest. It wasn’t tall, but it was wide. He traced the patterns on the lid with his fingertips before he opened the chest, and nearly dropped it in surprise.

“Oh,” he gasped. Slowly, he placed the chest on the floor in front of him and took out the wand inside. It was his first wand, the one Harry took from him during the war. He looked at it closely, and noticed that it was well taken care of.

“I know, I should’ve returned it much sooner,” Harry said. “I… I don’t really have an excuse, except for, well, I wanted to have something that is yours close by.”

Draco looked at Harry questioningly. “Why do you return this now, then?”

“I’m hoping that I won’t need to anymore.”

He looked back down at the chest, where a rolled up parchment sat, wrapped with blue bow. He took off the bow and slowly unrolled the parchment.

“Draco Lucius Malfoy,” he read slowly, “we have received an application on your behalf, and after reviewing your submission, we have decided to offer you an apprenticeship as a healer—oh.”

Harry grinned sheepishly at him. “I know you were okay with letting Alvin take the credit for your latest potion as long as he’ll pay you for it, but I thought you deserve the recognition,” he admitted. “I also told them you’ve patched me up more times than I could count. I know you wanted to be a Potions Master or a healer, so..."

“This is excellent, Potter,” Draco said as he grinned at him, but then his face fell. “I’m sorry I only got you an ugly sweater in return.”

“Hey, it was all your work,” Harry said quickly. “I only went behind your back and submitted your work. Plus, the sweater turns out to be not so ugly, after all, right?”

“I suppose,” Draco conceded. “I don’t like saying this, but I’m grateful I was stuck with you. You’ve done a lot more than you had to.”

“I want to.”

“Why? I’ve never given you a reason to help me.”

Harry hesitated. “I had a crush on you. Still do, actually.”

Draco frowned. “Do you need to see a mind healer, Potter? That sounds like a variation of the Stockholm Syndrome.”

Harry huffed out a breath of laugh. “Really? Of all the Muggle things you learned, that’s one of the few you remember?” he asked as he rolled his eyes. “And no, I don’t need to see a mind healer. I actually started having feelings for you when I saw you cry in the bathroom.”

“Really? But—“

“Don’t remind me, please.”

“Okay,” Draco conceded. It was the least he could do.

“Anyway, I began to see you as someone like me since then,” Harry said. “We both had our parts in the war, parts that we had to play, whether we want it or not, because if we don’t, we would lose those close to us.”

Draco placed the parchment down and turned to look at Harry seriously. “Potter… Harry,” he started, “I cannot say I feel the same for you right now,” Harry’s face fell slightly at this and Draco quickly added, “but you are quickly becoming one of my good friends, and I’m sure that with time, I will learn to love you too.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Draco said firmly. “You see, I’ve given up hope on ever becoming a potions master or a healer. I’ve given up hope on ever being thought of as a good person. I’ve accepted my fate, thinking I will forever be behind Alvin’s shadow, providing him with potions just so I could have enough money to go on with my life.”

“And when I’ve given up on myself, you didn’t. You kept believing in me, and now you’ve given me hope,” Draco finished, his lips twitching to form a small smile. “No one has ever given me hope, Harry. No one but you.”

Somehow, Harry knew he wasn’t just talking about now.

The next morning, Draco woke up in Harry’s arms, having fallen asleep midway through A Christmas Carol. He glanced at the window, with the curtains still drawn shut, and saw the faint light filtering in through the gaps.

With a huff, he buried his face in the crook of Harry’s neck, and returned to his dreamless, restful sleep.

It was the best Christmas of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave you comment here or at [Livejournal](). Comments are ♥


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